WATCHING THAT WASTEFUL
HEART WITHER
In a basketful of Keith there was
nothing but a whistle : How the
grubman kept alive I do not know.
He had Salada tea, only of which
Saladin it reminded me. Those
fine Turkish blends tobacco too.
Once there was a time when only
the faintest whiff of the Middle
East was allowed in. Not now.
The erasers are all worn down.
-
One time, On Bedford or Barrow,
hell, I forget which now, I stood
outside the doorway where Delmore
Schwartz once lived. I could feel
that miserly presence passing me
by. I so much had to pee, and was
tempted to use that wall, but I
stepped into Chumly's instead.
-
I found out later, yes, that the
Miracle on 34th Street really
had happened right there. That
was John Ashbery, in the corner,
looking at me. He was surrounded
by huge white sacks of mail. I
smiled nearby, and he gave me
his open seat.
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